Wayward Wings, page 1
Wayward Wings
S Slottje
Flintlock & Fluke Publishing
Copyright © 2024 S. Slottje All rights reserved.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact Flintlock & Fluke Publishers on flintlockandflukepublishing@gmx.co.uk
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Cover designed by Miblart
Illustrations by S. Slottje
1st edition 2024
Content Warning
Wayward Wings contains scenes of torture, graphic violence and death including of children and animals, some sexual scenes, nudity, PTSD and physical trauma, fat shaming, misgendering, and depictions of bodily functions. It features smoking, alcohol use, and drugging.
Discretion is advised.
Acknowledgements
Writing and publishing a book is harder, and took longer than I had thought, however it has been more rewarding than I could have imagined. This book wouldn't exist without the help of the following people:
First and foremost, Jarek Adams, writer and guru of the Wordmaids writers’ group, who as good as functioned as my writing coach over many years with her wisdom and encouragement. Her expertise and insights were invaluable in shaping my writing style and honing my storytelling skills. Additionally, I would like to express my heartfelt appreciation to my beta and sensitivity readers. Their generous feedback and criticism helped me to refine the direction of my novel.
I should also mention Rebecca Maeve Hartwell, Mindy Dwyer and Liz Bradley for setting up and running the Facebook groups Fantasy Virtual Critique Group and Fantasy Writers’ Guild. These groups proved to be invaluable resources, especially during the challenging times of the Covid-19 pandemic.
Thank you to the British Fantasy Society who provided me with the kick in the pants I needed to get this project over the line.
I want to extend my appreciation to Richie Billing and my fellow authors who follow his excellent podcast, The Fantasy Writers’ Toolshed, and gather on Richie’s Discord to provide support and inspiration.
I owe my editors Nick Hodgson, Claire Rushbrook, and Eleanor Smith, as well as the team at Miblart, a debt of gratitude for their help in making this book as good as it has turned out to be.
And of course, thank you to my husband for his forbearance, and being the closest thing to magic I'll ever know in real life.
For Sarah T who inspired so many characters
and who would have enjoyed this book
Contents
Part I 1. Untimely Emergence
2. Closest Thing to Home
3. Heort
4. First Flight
5. The Magistrate of Bladrid
6. The Race and the Fay
7. The Spell Spinner and the Thief
8. On the Road from the Keeltois
9. The Hiisi
10. Shadows in Kindalk
11. Nellepeth’s Payment
Part II 12. The Bridge of Wexede Crossing
13. The Surprise in Narastien’s Garden
14. The Thirsty Dragon
15. Food and Family Entanglements
16. Wylthren Mudridge
17. The Dweymin Curse
18. Cold Encounters
19. Ingrirath
20. The Nixes
21. A Trace of Ozcahar
Part III 22. Into the Dreadwoods
23. Fighting the Dweymin
24. Standoff at Ice Bird Falls
25. Fight or Flight
26. The Food and the Flame
27. The Silver Rose
28. Across the Marsarin Massif
29. The Trezzohl Trap
Part IV 30. Eimsiff of the Bol Badihr Commonry
31. Journey to the Noxious Water
32. Symbols of Beauty and Pride
33. Lord Dolt and Lady Tocsin
34. A Mysterious Disappearance
35. He Who Keeps Humans
36. Tonight We Thief You
37. Handras and Gavallia
38. Fresh-fresh Jungle Fay
39. Confrontation at the Commonry
Part V 40. Chase Through a Crowded Town
41. The Stand
42. The Factory, its Owner, and the Inn
43. Experimentations
44. Breaking the Stand
45. Do Dragons Really Eat Children?
46. Unexpected Aid
47. The Unhappy Hero
48. Day of the Six
Part VI 49. Flight
50. Nowhere Left to Run
51. The Deposed Queen
52. Rukh Bait
53. The Rock Spider
54. Udivoli
55. Anreeyani of the Telereni Naiad
56. Perilous Water
57. The Last Option
58. Like a Dragon
59. Reckoning and Remuneration
60. Her Own Dragon
Epilogue
About the Author
1
Untimely Emergence
Tearing through the husk of her cocoon, the dragon blinked, mystified by the golden clouds and the dark green pine needles that swayed overhead. After each prior iteration, the world had been bathed in silvery light. This time, the brilliance of a sunset surrounded her, not the light of a full moon. Caizhiu narrowed her eyes and realised she had four of them now.
Flexing her upper shoulders caused the brittle husk of the cocoon to split further, and as she shook it off, it slunk against the trunk of the tree. Caizhiu yawned, let the profusion of aromas on the evening breeze caress the receptors on her tongue. Scents of pine, primed gunpowder, and decaying meat swirled around her. When her senses untangled, a sudden but persistent pain welled up in her. The twisting of her insides was familiar; she tried to remember what it meant. She searched for a scent she could use to quell the gnawing discomfort. A whiff of fear – a delicious promise – caught her, and then it was all she could smell. Saliva dripped down her long teeth when her ancillary eyes spotted the human.
He stood a mere fifty paces from her, an aged farmer caught in the open of the field that surrounded the pine tree. Caizhiu remembered hearing his faltering footfall, running from the cocoon towards the dirt track and the safety of his auto carriage. But when the husk burst open, the man had stopped, the brim of his hat fluttering in the breeze and the legs of his trousers fluttering with fright. Though he had aimed a large flintlock rifle, under her gaze he was unable to fire.
When she lunged towards him, her foot snagged on the remnants of the cocoon. In an unfamiliar reflex, she extended her wings to keep upright. They tangled through the web of pine twigs, and one of them struck a weighty object suspended from a branch. She snapped at it and sank her teeth into the carcass of a ram. The animal had been gutted, stripped of its hide, and beheaded. Caizhiu searched her hazy mind to recall how it came to be hung here. Perhaps it was an offering from the old man. How had she known he was a farmer? Did she know him? The ram was an easier meal than a living human, and she bit down. Rhythmically shaking her head, she tore off a chunk of dead meat and gulped it down. The hunger lessened, and so did the frenzy that had gripped her. She sheared off strips of muscle and with every mouthful felt calmer – more like herself. Whoever that was.
The man took a quivering breath, lowered his rifle, and backed away. {You are early.}
His soul song was faint, but familiar. He struggled to form it through the fog of his fear, yet it flooded her with impressions in a way human speech could not. It warmed her, filling her with memories of a lifetime of affection, a family, a farm, a community, a friend. Morailo, she thought. He was her friend, Morailo. And she had nearly killed him.
She crunched up the neck bones and savoured the marrow. The sound carried, causing Morailo’s heart to hammer in his chest. {I barely had time to put up that damned ram!}
Though Caizhiu felt as much a stranger to her mind as she did her body, she was able to organise her thoughts into a coherent song. {How… long?}
{Ten days.} Accusation tainted his affection. {You’re ten days early.}
A Fabled would have reined in their level of intimacy but, though Talented, her friend was only human. Unable to keep from over-sharing, visions bled into his song: her looming over him, the dragon’s gaze that had rooted him, her fangs that he imagined jabbing into his flesh, her talons slicing through his abdomen. Visions to haunt his nightmares.
The Keeltois weren’t the hills where Caizhiu had first crawled out of her egg, not where she should have returned for her iteration. She’d had no desire to walk halfway across the world to a lonely mountaintop, and the Keeltois were the closest she had to a home. But she hadn’t intended for her friend to be faced with her true form. She remembered now that she’d asked him to hang the ram to quell her hunger. Still, she had warned the family to stay away from the cocoon near the time of her emergence. It hadn’t occurred to her that it could happen early. That was impossible. She wondered if her refusal to return to Jitren had been considered defiance of Sinuation, and that this may be its retribution. Morailo had almost paid the price for her hubris.
Despite lowering his rifle, he never once turned his back on her as he walked to his auto carriage. He opened the door, and a brown and white blur ran up the field towards Caizhiu. Morailo screamed. The cry of wordless panic turned into a name. “Mitzer, no!”
The dog dashed backwards and forwards around the dragon, assaulting her with high-pitched yips. Caizhiu extracted her claws from the ram’s flesh and slowed the dog’s movements until she could see each hackle quiver, each blade of grass bend underneath his paws. The dog rolled several times when she knocked him over with her tail.
{Caizhiu!}
Her jaws found the dog’s throat, her fangs eager to pierce the windpipe and spinal cord.
{Don’t harm my grandsons’ dog. Please…}
His desperation hit her like spears. Her friend shouldn’t have to plead with her. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and raised her head. The dog whined and licked his chops. Caizhiu took her claw off the animal.
“Mitzer!” Morailo attempted to sound authoritative as he called the dog, but his voice trembled. “Get yourself back here, you daft pup!”
The dog limped down the hill, recovering his gait, as if to check all his limbs were still there. His ears flapped when he shook his head and his tail wagged hesitantly when he jumped into the cabin. Morailo followed him and slammed the door shut.
The contraption rattled, shook, and steam billowed from between the tall wheels as the carriage pulled away.
Caizhiu couldn’t countenance that this might be the last time she’d see him, or worse, that this would be the way he’d remember her. She had to ensure she’d visit him in human form, however hard that might prove to be. {I’ll see you on the morrow.}
The auto carriage slowed, and before he was too far away, Morailo’s hesitant song reached her. {Take as long as you need.}
Once he’d gone, Caizhiu stripped the carcass to the bone, stroking the inside of her mouth with her tongue, trying to make sense of the displeasing flavour. The ram had been dead at least a week and it spoiled the taste. The human custom of charring food made her gag, but until today, she had always enjoyed raw meat. She didn’t know if it was her early emergence, the challenge of the dog, or simply her new iteration, but she needed to make a fresh kill.
She stretched to get the last twinge of stiffness out of her neck, limbs, and tail. Her head brushed against the branch. How tall was that? Without the weight of the meat, the branch had returned to its normal height. She was considerably larger than she had been. Taking care of another urge, she aimed a stream of urine at the remnants of the cocoon, which dissolved into a black stain on the tree trunk. A stain that would remind Morailo of this evening for the rest of his days.
The sun sank below the Keeltois’ peaks and the long shadows melded together into dusk. The concert of cicadas grew louder. Thin streaks of clouds broke to reveal the thinnest sliver of a waxing moon. She’d always been an impatient dragon, but ten days early was ridiculous. Bats and night fay darted about, feeding on moths and other flying insects of the wet season. Too agile for her to snatch from the air, but they reminded her of her 'appendages'. Tentatively, she unfolded her wings. They were enormous, finally large enough to enable her to fly. She would have to experiment with them. But not tonight, not in the dark.
She walked up the hill towards the treeline. Because of her longer legs, she reached the forest edge quicker than she’d expected. Twigs brushed her face, and she ducked to avoid the larger branches. The trees grew closer and closer together, driving out the grass for a layer of needles and fern mulch. She tripped over a tricky patch of brambles. Four eyes, and not one that could see in the dark. She had to rely on her other senses for her hunt. Her tongue tasted the air. Among the flavour of tiny rodents, burgeoning fungi, and pine trees, she found the pungent trail of a badger clan and followed it to avoid bumping into the trees. A bubble of silence formed around her as critters ceased their activity until the predator had passed. In the distance, a stag bellowed to attract mates and ward off rivals. Thankfully, she needn’t kill something that big. Recent rain – the first of the season – had formed a stream nearby. It would be the best place to quench her thirst and offered an easier path through the woods. A break in the canopy allowed faint moonlight to shimmer on the narrow ribbon of water. Occasionally, the pinprick light of a night fay darted through the clearing. Caizhiu clambered over the rock bed and bent to the crevice in which the water flowed, scooping water from the creek and lifting her head to let it pour down her throat. It was cold and tasted crisp, carrying the minerals of the mountain.
She followed the riverbed up the hill. Six years ago, the storms had transformed the little creek, making it so powerful it had deposited a path of rocks that shrubs had not yet filled. The previous decades of wear had disappeared from the soles of her feet, and Caizhiu felt each pebble with renewed intensity. She reached the dam that the people of the Keeltois had repaired. No matter how long the dry spell might last, they had learnt to keep plenty of water in reserve. Caizhiu climbed past a trickling waterfall over the dam to a small lake beyond. A young vixen stood by the water’s edge. When the fox noticed the dragon approach, she scurried into the woods.
There, where large rocky fingers stretched from between the darkness of the pines into the lake, would be a perfect place for an ambush. She could corner prey against the water. Unable to resist, she stole a glimpse at her reflection and froze in shock. The creature in the rippled mirror looked disastrously large. How could she transfigure that into a shape small enough to look human? But she had to. If she wanted to face Morailo and prove to him that she was still his friend, not a monster. And if she was ever going to be able to interact with neath humans again, she would need to disguise herself as one.
Caizhiu closed her eyes and concentrated on a human form. Naturally, the first one that came to mind was Morailo, but he was too short and slender to emulate. There wouldn’t be enough room for her body parts. She tried not to get rattled and remember what larger humans looked like. When she’d controlled her perceptions so she could hear each individual drop of water leave the lake and join the creek below the dam, she inhaled and began to reshape her structure. Fortunately, her body still had its post-iteration flexibility. Shifting her organs, she condensed her flesh and bones, squeezing herself smaller and smaller. Her muscles twinged as she contracted them. It hadn’t hurt this much before, had it? She rounded her head and flattened her snout, giving prominence to the nose over the mouth. Then she shrank and smoothed the hexagonal scales that covered her body until they had the texture of human skin. Her minor eyes she moved to the back of her head, and she drew in her neck. She pulled her teeth into her jaws and wrapped her long tail around her expansive waist. Extraneous folds of flesh she moulded, as best she could, to resemble the clothes humans covered themselves with. Lastly, she folded and refolded her wings over and around her, emulating a cloak to conceal her bulk. She included a hood to help hide her second pair of eyes.
The dragon stood upright on her shortened hind legs. She drew in her claws and shaped her feet like those of booted humans. For a moment she teetered on her now narrow, clawless feet to balance her bulk. Was this small enough? Reeling with each step, she shuffled to the water’s edge. Her mass was so dense that, should she slip, she would sink straight to the bottom. Once she felt sure she wouldn’t lose her footing, she tried on some expressions: she broadened her jawline so she could open her mouth, and when she grinned, she remembered to square her teeth. She was still too tall, too wide. But she could shrink no further. At least she looked human. To complete her facade, she changed the colour of her front eyes from black to white, leaving just the dot of her pupils dark. The rest of her colours she would take care of in daylight. Compared to maintaining her solidity, adapting her skin colour was easy. Stepping back from the water, she let the sensation of her new shape seep into her muscle memory. Ears, she remembered; humans had skin flaps for ears.
Her stomach gurgled. Contracting into her human form took a lot of energy and concentration, especially the first time. And she was still recovering from her emergence. She would need this shape later, but it’d be useless in her current hunt. Caizhiu walked back to the rocky formation and relaxed against it. She sighed with relief as her body returned to its natural shape. Her scales and eyes dulled to a mottled grey until she was indistinguishable from the granite.
